This is Probably a Bad Idea
by Keitorin Asthore
Summary: Blaine thinks it's a great idea to go camping for the fourth of July. Kurt definitely does not agree. Klaine. Oneshot. COMPLETE.


Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

"Kurt?" Blaine said. "Honey, do you want to come out of the tent?"

"No."

Blaine folded his arms and sighed. "Why not?" he asked.

"Many reasons. You should know them by now. I made them quite clear before you dragged me on this excursion."

"You're still mad that we tricked you into coming, aren't you?" Blaine guessed.

The tent flap unzipped just enough for Blaine to see angry blue eyes and tousled brown hair. "What was your first clue?" Kurt said. He zipped the tent back up. "You told me we were going to the lake."

"Which isn't a lie," Blaine protested. "There's a beautiful lake just twenty yards from-"

"I assumed you meant your family's lakehouse, not living in a polyester bubble for three days!"

Lucy walked by with a bag of charcoal on her shoulder and paused, tilting her head to the side. She looked the part of a camper in her denim cutoffs, plaid button up shirt, and a navy scarf tied around her red hair. "Kurt's still cranky, isn't he?" she said.

"I'm not cranky! I'm enraged!"

"He's not cranky, he's enraged," Blaine reported.

"Well, since I was the only the sane one who voted against dragging Kurt into the wild against his will, I will let you handle this one," she said, patting Blaine on the head.

"Lucy's my favorite!" Kurt hollered.

"I know!" she called back.

Blaine scratched the back of his neck, ruffling his ungelled curls. "Are you really that mad?" he asked meekly.

"Mr. Anderson, you dragged me from my bed at four o'clock this morning, made me sit in the backseat of your jeep for two hours between my ginormous stepbrother and your sister, who drank Red Bull the entire time-"

"Hey, I thought it was just lemonade, and besides, you got carsick all over both of them, so I figure you're even," Blaine interrupted.

"Oh, yes, I got carsick, which was incredibly delightful, and then we had to _assemble our house_, which does not seem like a very safe environment, and I had to eat sandwiches _in the dirt-"_

"We were not sitting in the dirt, we were sitting at a picnic table," Blaine argued.

"It was dirty, Blaine! And now I am sunburned and covered in bug bites and coated in dirt and I just want to go home!"

Blaine paused. "Kurt?"

He heard a soft sniffle.

"Kurt, are you crying?" he asked softly.

"Just go away, Blaine," Kurt said, his voice thick and muffled. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

Blaine got up quietly, swallowing around the lump in his throat, and walked back over to the campfire. Francey, dressed in a neon turquoise bikini top and barely-there gray and yellow shorts with her curls piled haphazardly on top of her head, glanced up from her book. "Pukey McBarfpants mad at you?" she inquired.

"Don't call him that, he's just prone to motion sickness and he couldn't help it," Blaine said, sinking down in the striped lawn chair beside her. "And put some clothes on. I'm your little brother and I can see way too much of your boobs."

"Oh, come on, my boobs are awesome," Francey shrugged. She slid her heart-shaped sunglasses down her nose and eyed him critically. "Did you really think he'd be okay with all of this?"

"I don't know," Blaine said miserably. "His dad really liked the idea. He said he used to take Kurt camping when he was little and he liked it."

"Yeah, but wasn't that when his mom was alive?" Francey pointed out. "Beside, camping when you're six is a lot different from camping when you're sixteen."

"But I figured he'd be okay," Blaine said. His shoulders drooped. "I'm the worst boyfriend ever, aren't I?'

"No, you're not, you're just seventeen and kind of a dumbass sometimes," Francey said. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and yanked him in for a tight hug. "Here, let me comfort you, my Babbie. Come to my bosom."

"Your bosom is currently mostly naked, no thank you!" Blaine said, wriggling away.

She laughed and ruffled his hair. "Just give it a little time," she said kindly. "Kurt loves you and you love Kurt. It's all going to be okay."

"Either that or he'll hate me forever," Blaine sighed.

Finn rolled up to the campsite on the old mountain bike he'd borrowed from Cooper and hopped off. "Hey, guys," he said cheerfully, leaving the bike on the gravel. "There's an awesome hiking trail up there. We gotta go." He looked at Blaine and frowned. "Kurt's still mad, isn't he?"

"He used the word 'enraged'," Blaine sighed.

Finn frowned. "Is he just mad, or is he still kind of pukey?" he asked. "He tends to get really mad when he gets carsick. One time, when we were driving to Cincinnati, he-"

"You know, I think Kurt would be a lot happier if we stopped telling stories about the various times he's puked on us in moving vehicles," Blaine interrupted.

"Oh, but it's funny!" Francey said. She frowned. "Except I don't think my Tevas will ever recover."

Blaine groaned and rubbed his forehead. "I'm going to go home single, aren't I?" he moaned.

Lucy hopped out of the back of the jeep and closed the hatch. "If I go check on Kurt, will you guys be happy?" she asked, exasperated.

"Yes," they chorused.

"You're the only one that he's not furious with," Finn said.

"Fine," Lucy huffed. "But you owe me."

"We love you, Louisa," Francey said sweetly. "Now go tame the savage beast."

Lucy rolled her eyes and walked over to the boys' tent, zipping the flap shut behind her. Finn glanced at Blaine. "Wanna go hang out at the lake?" he said.

"Sure," Blaine sighed.

Hanging out at the lake turned out to be the best option. The water was cool and crystalline and the beach was mostly deserted of other campers, so the two of them swam idly and waded around in the shallows, sometimes quiet and sometimes chatting idly. They hid out on the shoreline for a few hours, until the sun started to go down and their stomachs were growling noisily.

They made their way back to their campsite to find Lucy building a campfire while Francey laid out things for hot dogs. "Hey, you two," Francey said. "Have fun?"

"Yeah, the lake's awesome," Finn said, pulling on a clean but faded tee shirt. "You guys going to go swimming tomorrow?"

"Hell yes," Francey said. "It's too hot to sit around here all day."

Blaine sidled up to Lucy. "How's Kurt?" he asked softly, sliding his hands in the back pockets of his old cargo shorts.

"A little better, I think," she said. "I let him vent for a while, which seemed to help some. And I made him go to the bathhouse and get cleaned up. That perked him up a little."

"Is he going to eat dinner with us?" Blaine asked.

"No clue," Lucy said, brushing charcoal dust off her hands and standing up. "He had some really awful mosquito bites, so I made him take some Benadryl. He conked out in five minutes flat. Fell asleep with his head on my lap and started drooling a little."

"Yeah, he does that," Blaine said, smiling fondly. "But you think he'll be okay?"

Lucy squeezed his bicep affectionately. "I do," she said. "But you're going to have to be super sweet to make this up to him."

"I will," Blaine promised.

"Shit! My hot dog caught on fire! Shit! Oh, but cool, it's like a torch!"

"Francey! Stop waving it around!"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Blaine, can you keep your sister from burning down the forest?" she asked.

"Oh, god, look, it's a flaming wiener. I could make so many inappropriate jokes right now."

"I'm on it," Blaine said. "Frances! Stop it!"

The four of them managed to get through the rest of dinner without burning down the campsite, and they sat around the fire with their hot dogs and potato chips, swigging soda and chatting happily. Blaine kept glancing towards the boys' tent, wondering if he should go and check on Kurt, or if he should just let him sleep.

It was already dark, the stars shining overhead and the firelight casting shadows across their faces, when Lucy pulled out a bag of marshmallows. "Anyone for s'mores?" she asked, waving it back and forth.

"Oh, god, yes," Francey said, snatching them out her hand.

Finn frowned. "I dunno, s'mores are only good with-"

Lucy reached into the cooler and pulled out a jar. "With peanut butter?" she finished.

Finn's eyes lit up. "Oh my god, I love you," he blurted out. His ears promptly turned red. "I mean, I don't…uh…"

Lucy blushed and hastily handed him the jar. "Great minds think alike, I guess?" she said.

"Oh, for shit's sake," Francey said. "Lucy, you and David broke up months ago. Finn, Rachel left you for Jesse St. James. You've been making cow eyes at each other for ages." She pushed the two of them together. "Now kiss!"

Lucy and Finn stood there staring at each other, hips pressed together and mouths wide in shock, before they both turned matching shades of scarlet and hastily retreated to opposite sides of the campfire. Francey scowled and flipped them both off.

Blaine stuck a marshmallow on a stick and held it over the fire, rotating it carefully for the best possible flame-to-surface ratio. Finn leaned over him like a small giant, sticking his three marshmallows directly into the fire and waiting a minute or two until they burst into flames. "God, I love s'mores," he said, peeling all three of them off onto a single graham cracker and squishing an entire chocolate bar on top. He slathered peanut butter messily onto another cracker and squashed them together, then took a huge bite.

"I can see that," Blaine said. He rotated his marshmallow another quarter-turn. "But if you take your time, it turns out better."

"Sometimes you don't want to wait," Francey said. "Sometimes you just have to dip the marshmallow into Nutella, stuff it in your mouth, and smile."

Blaine shook his head. "I am ashamed to call you my sister," he said.

"Aw, you love me," Francey cooed. "Shall I hug you to my bosom again?"

"No, thank you."

The tent flap behind them slowly unzipped. Blaine turned around, his heart flipflopping. Kurt struggled out of the boys' tent, clearly still half-asleep. His hair stuck straight up in the back and his right cheek was crisscrossed with red pillow lines; his tee shirt and short plaid shorts were badly rumpled. "Kurt," Blaine stammered.

Lucy quietly took the marshmallow stick from his hand and nudged him with her hip. Blaine stumbled over to Kurt and caught his hands. "Kurt, I'm so sorry," he blurted out. "I really am."

Kurt locked his arms around Blaine's neck and dropped his cheek against his shoulder. "It's okay," he murmured. "I'm still kind of mad, but I'm not mad at you anymore."

Blaine rubbed his back. "I shouldn't have made you come without telling you exactly what you were getting into," he said. "I just thought it would be fun to spend the fourth of July camping, just the five of us."

"If I try to have fun, will you be okay with me complaining that it's hot and I'm dirty and covered with bug bites?" Kurt said, rubbing his cheek against Blaine's neck.

"I am definitely okay with that," Blaine said, tangling his fingers in Kurt's thick silky hair. "Complain away." He pulled back a little and squeezed his shoulders. "How are you feeling? Lucy said you have a lot of bug bites."

"She gave me some of that anti-itchy stuff and made me take Benadryl," Kurt yawned. "I think I feel a little better. But…we have bug spray, right?"

"Enough for a small army," Blaine reassured him. He took a step back, looking Kurt up and down. His arms, legs, and neck were dotted with angry pink pockmarks. "Poor baby."

"Yes, I'm a very poor baby," Kurt said, nestling into Blaine's side and sliding his arms around his waist. "Pity me."

Blaine kissed the top of his head. "You are pitied," he said. "Want to come sit by the fire? We're making s'mores."

"I'm going to get sticky, aren't I?" Kurt sighed. "Fine. I just have to resign myself to the fact that I'll be sticky for the next three days."

Blaine linked his fingers through his. "Well, we're going to the lake tomorrow," he offered. "Maybe that'll make you…less sticky?"

"Less sticky, more covered-in-duck-poop-germs," Kurt said.

Blaine kissed his temple, smiling into his hair. "Mm, aren't you the romantic one?" he said.

"Uh, yeah, you're not getting any until we're home and I've taken an hour-long shower," Kurt admitted. "It's hard to feel sexy when you're itchy and grimy and smelling like bug spray and sunscreen."

"All right, so we can cross that off of Kurt's turn-on list!" Francey called. "So what does turn you on, Kurt? Tell us more!"

"That, and we have absolutely no privacy for the next three days," Blaine said. He leaned over and nuzzled Kurt's ear. "But we could always snuggle in a hammock."

Kurt ducked his head into the crook of Blaine's neck. "I think I can be talked into a snuggle," he said.

Blaine squeezed his hand and walked him over to the campfire. "Hey, Kurt," Finn said. "You still mad?"

"I think we've been downgraded to 'put out'," Kurt said. "However, you need to feed me or things might get dicey."

Lucy handed him a s'more and kissed his forehead. "Here," she said. "I'll have you know I'm a master of s'more making."

Kurt took a cautious bite. "Oh my god, that's amazing," he said. He glanced up. "Since we're going to be walking everywhere this weekend, and swimming and biking and stuff, I can eat whatever I want, right?"

"Eat all the calories!" Francey cheered, throwing her hands in the air.

Blaine sat down in a lawn chair and tugged Kurt down to sit on his lap. Kurt obeyed without protest, nibbling happily on the s'more. Blaine wrapped an arm around his waist and slid his hand up the back of his shirt, massaging the small of his back. They sat around the campfire chatting until the embers died down and Kurt began to droop in Blaine's arms. Blaine rubbed slow soothing circles into Kurt's soft bare skin, feeling the warm weight of his body pressed against his. Kurt drifted off to sleep in his arms, mouth slightly agape as he breathed deeply. Blaine snuck a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, tasting the sticky sweetness of melted marshmallow against his lips, and sighed in relieved contentment.

He cuddled his drowsy boyfriend on his lap while they lounged around in their lawn chairs talking about everything and nothing as the fire died down slowly. Kurt sank further into sleep, sagging against Blaine's chest with his arms dangling limply at his sides.

"All right, munchkins," Francey yawned, stretching her arms high above her head. "I don't know about you, but I'm sleepy."

"God, Francey, nipple, nipple," Blaine complained, covering his eyes with one hand and Kurt's with the other.

Francey glanced down at her wandering bikini top and adjusted it lazily. "All I know is…it's time for bed," she said. "Especially for Kurt. He's snoring."

Blaine glanced down at his unconscious boyfriend. "Do I have to wake him up?' he said. "He's so cute when he's sleeping."

"You might think he's cute when he's sleeping, but you've never woken him up when he's coming off benadryl," Finn warned. "He's like a really skinny bear. He like…growls and stuff." He stood up, stretching out his long legs. "Here, I'll carry him to the guy tent. But you're going to have to do the whole…making him wear pajamas thing. I mean, we're brothers and close and all…but taking off his clothes and stuff-"

"I'm on it," Blaine said.

"All right, I'm going to bed too," Lucy said. She kissed Blaine on the cheek. "Night, Blaine." She brushed Kurt's hair off his forehead and planted a gentle kiss. "Night, Kurt."

"What, no kiss for Finn?" Francey teased.

Finn's ears turned red. "Oh, no, that's okay, I'll just-"

Lucy tugged him on the arm until he leaned down to her level and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Night, Finn," she said.

She sashayed away with a superior glance at Francey. Finn just blinked, still frozen in place, but a dopey grin slowly spread across his face.

Kurt mumbled something in his sleep and shifted around in on Blaine's lap, flinging a hand into Blaine's chin and sliding halfway down his knees. "Finn? Finn? I can't hold onto him," Blaine said, latching on to Kurt's waist. "It's like trying to hug an octopus."

Finn snapped to attention and jogged over to them, lifting Kurt over his shoulder easily in a fireman's carry. "I got him," he said, adjusting him with a little bounce.

Blaine eased out of his chair, cracking his stiff lower back. "I'd better put him to bed," he said. He leaned over and kissed his sister on the cheek. "Goodnight, Baby."

"G'night, Babbie," she said, pinching him lightly.

Blaine followed Finn over to their tent. Kurt sprawled out on his sleeping bag, clearly dead to the world, his arms and legs splayed out. "Here, you take it from here," Finn huffed, nudged his starfished brother off his pillow. "I gotta go pee. Hand me the flashlight."

Blaine handed it over, ducking out of the way as Finn fumbled past him into the dark. He scooted on his knees over to Kurt and brushed his hair off his forehead. "All right, sweetheart," he said. "You just lie still and don't wake up, okay? I don't want you to get grumpy at me."

He untied Kurt's Converse low tops and set them carefully by the tent flap. Kurt mumbled something, rubbing his cheek into his pillow, and opened his eyes slowly to blink drowsily at Blaine. "Yeah, I know, you're tired," Blaine murmured as he eased off his wrinkled tee shirt. Kurt's pale skin was pockmarked with swollen red mosquito bites; he leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his chest. Kurt sleepily patted Blaine's curls with his fingertips. Blaine kissed his fingers. "Once you've got your pajamas on, you can go back to sleep, okay? Can you sit up and help me a little?"

Kurt obeyed, pushing himself up on his elbows. "Did I fall asleep?" he mumbled.

"Uh-huh," Blaine said, tossing the tee shirt aside and handing him a tank top.

Kurt frowned, squinting at the neckline for the tag, and wrestled into it. "I could have gotten into bed by myself," he said. "You don't have to be everything for me."

"I know, but…you know, I wanted to," Blaine said, sitting back cross legged as Kurt pulled off his shorts. "You're, um…not still mad at me, right?"

Kurt smiled, rising up on his knees and scooting closer to him. He cupped Blaine's face in his hands and kissed him. "I don't think so," he said, nuzzling his nose against his. "Now move, 'cause you're on my sleeping bag."

"Sure, whatever," Blaine grinned, scooting over. Kurt unzipped his sleeping bag and crawled inside, face planting on his pillow. "Benadryl already kicking back in?"

Kurt made a muffled snorting noise into the pillow. Blaine grinned and laid down beside him, burying his face in the crook of his neck and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Are you guys going to spoon?" Finn asked as he crawled into the tent, tossing his flashlight onto his sleeping bag. "Because that's not fair. It's going to get cold at night, and you two will get to stay warm, and I'm going to freeze."

"Hudson! There's room in Lucy's sleeping bag!"

There was a soft thud and a yelp from the tent next to theirs. "Francey! Shut up!"

"She just hit me!"

"With a pillow!"

"You still hit me!"

"But you- oh god, what is that?"

Kurt let out a small snore, smacking his mouth and burrowing back into Blaine's warmth. "Oh, come on, you guys don't get to cuddle while I have to sleep by myself," Finn complained.

Suddenly the tent flap unzipped and Francey stuck her head in, brandishing a flashlight in one hand and a pillow tucked under her arm. "Move over, losers, we're cuddlepiling it up," she announced.

Lucy ducked past Francey. "I think a raccoon just tried to eat our tent," she panted, diving onto the pile of sleeping bags. "We're sleeping in here."

"But there's not enough room," Blaine pointed out.

"Eh, we'll be fine," Francey said, settling in beside Blaine. "Scoot over."

"Fine," he sighed.

"I think now is a perfect time for ghost stories," Francey said. "So there was this one time-"

Finn propped himself up on his elbow. "No," he said flatly.

"Fine," she huffed. "You're no fun, Hudson."

Blaine closed his eyes and concentrated on the rise and fall of Kurt's back against his chest. Francey and Finn and Lucy continued to bicker quietly around them, until their voices slowed and they drifted off to sleep. Blaine stayed awake a little bit longer, inhaling in the chill of the summer night air and listening to the crickets and the lake and the soft breathing of the others sleeping around him, and the last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the way Kurt's hand was closed lightly around his.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Y'ALL THIS HAS SERIOUSLY BEEN SITTING ON MY HARD DRIVE FOR LIKE TWO YEARS. HAPPY AMERICA DAY.

I think I posted a slightly shorter version of this as a drabble on my tumblr, but I never posted it here. So here it is, a bit fleshed out! Although I'm sure they got up to plenty more shenanigans during their camping trip.

Also there was no raccoon. Francey just wanted to force Lucy and Finn to snuggle.

Also, I have a huge running gag about Kurt getting carsick. I feel like Burt is constantly telling stories about how Kurt's gotten carsick before and he's just like "DAD. SHUT UP." And now Carole and Finn are in on it too, although Carole is distinctly more sympathetic.

BUT YEAH HERE HAVE SOME ADORABLE SILLY CAMPING STUFF.


End file.
